Read Online Classified by Debra Webb - Free Book Online

and whacked him on the head with the beer bottle in her right hand. Glass shattered on the floor. When he turned and made a dive at her, his gun already palmed, she gave him another smack with the one in her left. He crashed the same way his amigo had.
    Casey tugged the 9mm from the guy closest to her and tucked it into the waistband of her skirt at the small of her back. Her mind already two steps ahead, she shuffled through the drawers of the chest until she had four shirts to use in securing the buttwads on the floor. She pitched two Stark’s way.
    Working swiftly, they didn’t speak until they tied the goons’ hands behind their backs, then secured the makeshift tether to their bound ankles. Getting loose wouldn’t be so easy. Socks stuffed in their mouths would ensure they didn’t sound an alarm for their boss.
    Stark placed his hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him, hoping he didn’t notice the quiver his touch had evoked. Why the heck did she keep doing that? “Slow and quiet,” he warned. “We want him alive and talking.”
    Maybe it shouldn’t have, but his cautionary advice ticked her off. She hadn’t planned to go in guns-a-blazing. He sounded like her superiors at the Agency. “Got it.”
    She shrugged off his touch and moved to the door. She wasn’t reckless; she was bold…brave…unflinching. If she gave off that vibe, what of it? She was glad. She wasn’t weak, so why pretend?
    The wind had picked up outside. Raising her hand to her face, Casey protected her eyes from the sand that might be flying around. She and Stark reached the main house without incident. Hopefully that meant Fernandez had either retired for the evening or wasn’t near any of the windows that faced the back of his property.
    At the same window where they’d been before, Casey carefully peeked inside. Fernandez had slumped into a large wing chair with a tall glass. Judging by the small amount of golden liquid that remained, he was on his way to exceedingly relaxed.
    Tequila could steal the roar from a lion. It had helped many find the floor.
    Casey considered their options and decided that the straightforward approach would be the most efficient method of achieving their goal. She crouched down below the window and waited for Stark to join her.
    “I’m guessing the back door was left unlocked.”
    Stark nodded, to her surprise. “If he hears us, he’ll think it’s one of them.” He jerked his head toward the bunkhouse.
    True. “He certainly won’t be expecting us.” The sweetest kind of revenge. She was going to enjoy this, as long as Stark didn’t get in her way.
    Casey stayed down until she was clear of the window. A few seconds were required to reach the back of the house. She flattened against the wall and listened. The silence bugged her a little. Too bad Fernandez wasn’t watching a favorite movie or playing a few tunes. Going for a quiet entrance could backfire if the floor creaked or she bumped into something. The rooms at the back of the house were dark. The smarter move would be to go in loud, like the locos out in the bunkhouse.
    Stark faced her from the opposite side of the rear entrance. Casey held up one finger, then two. He was braced to move on three. She didn’t bother with three. She barged through the door, too fast for Stark to snatch her back.
    The back door led straight into the kitchen. She stamped into the wide entry hall that appeared to connect the kitchen to the front rooms. She took a position next to a towering cabinet with glass doors. Behind the glass were all manner of exquisite art pieces. At least the lying scumbag had decent taste.
    The hall was wide and dimly lit by the light valiantly stretching across the floor from the front room where Fernandez had been lounging.
    “What the hell do you want now?” Fernandez howled. “I told you to get out!”
    Stoneware crashed on the floor of the kitchen. Stark. Casey grinned. He got it. Her new partner was luring the prey from his